Runic Mystery
by LJ Summers
Summary: "Make sure Padfoot protects the pup at all costs. He cannot stray from this one iota." Remus is given a mysterious Runic letter which brings unwelcome tidings. A mystery during a war is a frightening thing. AU, Time-Travel, short story.
1. Part the First

**_A/N: It's Leap Day_** _and I felt like I wanted to do something in honor of the day_ _, so I decided to post a short story. I give many thanks to **KATMOM** the **AMAZING** for her enthusiasm, her beta-brain, and her encouragements. Where  my brain was scrambled, she brought toast and marmalade and made it a balanced breakfast. :) This was supposed to be a one-shot, but...it got a little bit away from me while I was writing. So, it's now a four-shot and will be posting this week. Yes, of course it's done on my end. ;-)_

 _Hope you find something_ ** _once-every-four-years-ish_** _to do in your life today!_

 _ **This is AU. Alternate Universe**. That means things will be  different here than they are in the books and/or the movies. _

_The initial timeline referenced in this story for these events is taken from the_ ** _Harry Potter Lexicon_** _. Of course, I altered things. I always do. **AU** , remember?_

 ** _Legal Matters:_** _This is a work of derivative fiction. I have many copyrights in the world, but this is not among them nor will it ever be. All things_ Harry Potter _are the property of J.K. Rowling and whomsoever she designates. I'm just here for my own amusement. And, maybe, yours._

* * *

 **Runic Mystery**

 **Part the First, 31 October 1981**

" _Lumos_."

Remus Lupin squinted by his wand's light into the cocked visage of a mottled gray owl. "Elspeth? What the hell are you doing out here, girl?" With a sneeze—prompted by the multitudinous growing things outside the tent, no doubt—the young member of the Order of the Phoenix rolled up to his knees and stretched to reach his rucksack, where he had a bag of owl treats. The Potter owls were fond of bacon and it kept well enough, so he offered some to Lily Potter's personal owl. "Whatcha got there, girl, eh?" He tucked his wand behind his ear to shed light on what was before him. A convenient place, that.

Elspeth nipped at his bare knuckle in clear reproof before taking her bacon and Remus had to chuckle. "You're just like Lily, aren't you? Here, let me relieve you of this oh-so-heavy burden."

Elspeth, once her leg was free, immediately waddled to the tent flap and pushed her way out into the night.

"Thanks, girl. My best to James and Lily." Remus broke the cedar red wax seal on the roll of parchment in his fingers. The handwriting was clearly Lily's—he'd known her for almost ten years and her script was as familiar as any of the Marauders'.

 _Moony~_

 _Had a scare and a new thought. New S-Keeper is Wormtail. Had the feeling I had to tell you._

 _Be safe up there._

 _Fondly,_

 _Doe_

The gentle amusement that had curled his lips dissipated. "A scare? What's wrong with Padfoot being the Secret Keeper? What happened? Did he…? No. James is like his brother. And Harry's his _godson_. Pads wouldn't dream of doing anything against them. But…he _is_ a Black. Maybe his family…?" Pursing his lips, Remus fell back on his elbows, thinking hard.

And he heard a rustling sound under one arm. The sound of, well, not _parchment_ , but something like it.

Shifting, he inhaled again, more slowly, trying to parse out new scents. Layered over his own sweat, the faint aroma of chocolate—his biggest vice—and cold beef, he found what he was smelling for.

"Potion. Scent masking potion. What the bloody hell?" He slapped the canvas sheeting next to him and got his second, or was it third, startle of the night. Paper. Cautious, now, for the odd bits were starting to add up to anything other than safety for a spying sort, Remus aimed his wand at the folded bit of Muggle paper and cast a _Revelio_ geared specifically to traps, then one for poisons.

"Potion. Again." He leaned down to smell the still-folded paper and caught only the scent-masker.

Concerned but also impossibly intrigued, he gloved his hands and unfolded the paper . . . to find nothing. It was blank.

Here, though, he smiled and thought he knew what was up. "Padfoot. You're behind this somehow." He would have thought _James_ , but James was in hiding with Lily and the cub. "Fine. I solemnly swear I am up to no good," he recited, tucking his wand behind one ear and brushing sandy hair off his forehead.

The blank page filled slowly with a mix of runes written with a Biro. "Damned sight more convenient than a quill and here: solid English." But then, Remus swore, all of his prior discomfort returning threefold as he read.

 _Dear Remus,_

The greeting was not in any handwriting he recognized, but it was someone who had written his name before, for the letters flowed smoothly. Firm script with a slight cant toward the right. After his name, though, most of the letter was in Ancient Runes, save for the name of Peter Pettigrew. The author of this mysterious communication on the Muggle paper must have taken a leaf from _The Tales of Beetle the Bard_ , which had once been written in the Runic language.

 _I have to alert you that Peter Pettigrew has been named Secret Keeper for your mutual friends. The Grim, however, is fine._

 _Make sure Padfoot protects the pup at all costs. He cannot stray from this one iota._

 _Sorry this is so cryptic, but secrecy is paramount._

 _Have a care._

 _With much respect,_

 _A friend_

Instead of a signature, there was a sketch of an hourglass framed by what appeared to be a regular letter _H_ and Remus felt a chill move all over his body.

He let his mind run while he packed up his gear. Dumbledore. Dumbledore would know what the bloody hell was going on, of course. The Head of the Order _had_ to know. Questions Remus John Lupin planned on asking immediately, however, included:

 _How did the author know that Sirius looked like a Grim when he was in his Animagus form?_

 _What had happened to cause the Potters to switch the role of Secret Keeper to Peter if all was well with Sirius?_

 _What was happening with You-Know-Who?_

Perhaps his ominous visitor was someone who used a Time-Turner and chose to indicate that by the hourglass below the signature. Someone who knew that his sense of smell was preternaturally keen so had masked her own scent. Someone who knew or guessed that he was familiar with the Runes and could read them as he might Latin. The writer had to be well-versed in the Runes, too.

Damned clever witch or wizard, he was guessing. Still, he swore. He'd have to get back to James and Lily. And Dumbledore, but the Potters had priority.

Something was mysterious. And a mystery during a war was a frightening thing.

He hated abandoning his mission, but the situation with Peter and Sirius—and the Potters—was striking him as an imperative so Remus finished packing up his gear. He hadn't quite mastered the Undetectable Extension Charm—yet—so he felt a bit unwieldy as he surveyed his campsite. He hoped that the fresh air would dissipate his scent soon. He didn't want the northern packs to think he was spying on them—even if, in essence, he rather had been.

"I'll make my excuses to Dumbledore," he muttered to himself as he focused on his different destinations. Apparition was tricky and he didn't want to try the length of England in one go. His final Apparition Point would have to take him to a Floo so he could get directly into Potter Manor; their wards would keep him out otherwise. He had to get to James and find out _what_ by Merlin's own _beard_ had happened.

 **. . . .**

As he braced himself and turned in place for each of half a dozen Apparition hops, each taking him closer to Godric's Hollow, Remus felt his heart rate increase. Nerves jumped and his wand hand got twitchy. With his rucksack over his shoulder, he took a few quick, deep breaths and made the final Floo hop right into the Potters' reception room. James and Lily had their Floo oriented to be select. Remus's wand signature was always allowed, as were those of Sirius, Peter, and Albus Dumbledore.

The house—a manor, really—was dark as Remus blinked and immediately inhaled the scene before him. Dark and smelling of blood, of death, of smoke; the essence of dark magics made the hair on his head rise in protesting awareness. Within him, Moony howled, fury drawing back Remus's lips into a lupine snarl.

" _Stupefy_!" he hissed, all his instincts firing on the shadowed figure that seemed to only then notice the Floo had activated. The power spilled from his mind, down his arm, out his fingers and into his wand before making a lightning connection to the cloaked male who was only then lifting a wand at him.

The intruder fell down as if dead. The stunner was a great spell, that way.

Remus finally exited the fireplace, keeping his body low to the ground. Shouts, mostly outside, reached his ears, but then he heard a cry.

"Mummy!"

His heart practically seized in his chest. He knew that cry. He'd known Harry since the hour of the lad's birth. And Harry was angry and scared. Wand still at the ready and the _Stupefy_ curse on the tip of his tongue. Remus darted past the stranger on the floor, barely pausing to wrap him in a spelled body-bind. _I'm coming, Harry! Where's Lily? Where's James?_

 _Protect the cub. Protect the cub._

Death. Death was still everywhere. He felt it crawling, writhing in the corridors of the manor home. It was a combination of burnt skin, voided bowels, and the incipience of rotting flesh that made his lupine senses cringe in disgust. Shadows, darker and lighter, overwhelmed the upper corridor, but Remus's memory and sight were too good to be misled. He went directly to the nursery, where Harry was still crying in abject terror.

"Mummy!"

When had the boy learned to say that? Pain sliced through Remus's heart—he had missed so much. That the lad hadn't been silenced, though, seemed to indicate that at the very least he was alone. A brief pause—a quick scenting of the nearby rooms, listening for heartbeats, for breathing— and Remus leapt over the body on the floor, knowing it was dead. His first priority was Harry.

"It's Uncle Remus, Harry," he said in a soothing voice. He passed a hand briefly over the boy's face and head as he held him close. Harry's cries quieted a bit until Remus inadvertently touched a spot on the boy's forehead that felt hot.

Was that an infection? In such an odd location?

Remus sniffed at the spot and recoiled so much that he staggered against the nearest wall, tripping over the body on the floor while clutching the cub to his chest. "Ow," he muttered, looking to see that he had managed to plunge two holes in the wall with his elbows. Harry, though, seemed fine, except for that hot spot.

It smelled of Dark Magic. The darkest. Arcane power fairly oozed from Harry's skin and Remus whimpered in his chest. Dumbledore. He had to show Dumbledore.

"Unka Moon…"

Eyes filling with belated tears, Remus hugged the black-haired boy in his arms and took a quick inventory of the nursery. The overpowering odors of pine-scented cleaner, of nappies, and of Lily herself had masked the darker, horrific scents that lurked near the floor.

Blood. In the darkness of the room, Remus still had wolf-sensitive vision and now that the boy was not crying, he had a moment to observe and see if he could reconstruct what had happened. Blood. Lily was on the floor, but there was no heartbeat. Just the fading warmth of a life extinguished. He choked on a sob, wishing he could bring that life back.

"Mummy… Daddy… Green! Unka! Green!"

Another sob pushed from Remus's throat. "Lily…" Hesitant to examine her body while he held Harry, Remus reminded himself to do so later. The needs of the living had priority. "James…?"

James would be dead, Remus knew this in his heart. No one could have reached Lily or Harry without taking James out first. Still holding Harry in the crook of his left arm, Remus gathered supplies quickly. Lily— _oh, Lily, our den mother, our friend, James's wife, our sister_ —had been prepared. She had sent him an owl and made sure she could run with her son at a moment's notice. A bag, there, with wide straps. Remus shifted the contents about, seeing nappie paraphernalia, liquid formula, thick crackers, baby food, clothes and shoes for a toddling child.

He tried, he tried _so hard_ to keep his weeping silent, but still tears fell from his eyes and dripped on to Harry's body, making splotches on his sleeping outfit with the feet on it.

"Mummy?"

"Hush, lad. Hush. We'll get you safe. All will be well. We'll get you to your godfather, Padfoot."

"Unka Pad!"

 _Sirius. Right._ He had been going to be the Potters' Secret Keeper, but Lily said Peter had been, instead.

A lightning bolt of fury ripped through Remus's torso. "Peter," he said on a growl.

Peter Pettigrew was a dead man.

With Harry's bag over his shoulder, Remus managed to search the rest of the house, finding James's body. No blood, there, but there wasn't a pulse, either. It was clear he'd been _Avada'd_ and that was that. Remus kept his body turned so that Harry didn't have the image of his dead father in his memory—bad enough he might have Lily's death always with him. How much would a toddler remember?

 _Tend to the cub. Protect the cub._

"James! Lily! Harryyyyy!"

Sirius! His erstwhile best friend was out there, and Remus's muscles tensed in suspicion. Why had Lily and James made _Peter_ their Secret Keeper? What had Sirius _done_?

 _The Grim, however, is fine._ The reminder only served to confuse Remus even more.

Remus took the stairs slowly, his senses on full alert just in case any more Death Eaters decided they needed to check on Harry. He was grateful for the ability to see in the dark in that lupine manner. His only worry was that the toddler in his arms would give him away.

" _Silencio_ ," he murmured with a flick of his wand over Harry's head. The boy chose that moment to flail his limbs and roar—silently—which made Remus take a moment to secure all that he had charge of before he went on.

Sirius's voice was drawing nearer.

"Jaaaames!" The name was followed by a harsh cry, which caught firmly in Remus's chest as he paused in the parlor.

The Death Eater on the floor was still in the full-body bind, but he was alert now and his eyes seemed to flare to see young Harry.

Remus snarled at the man and stunned him again. Then, he reached the door.

"Sirius! It's me, Remus. I have Harry with me. I'm coming out."

* * *

 _ **A/N:** A part of this might be familiar if you read Runes on Paper, one of my Glimpses of Hermione drabbles. _


	2. Part the Second

_**A/N:** Thank you for joining me on this little magical mystery tour. ;-) _

* * *

**Part the Second, 31 October 1981**

Remus's heart pounded in his chest. It was loud enough that he was sure Sirius's inner Animagus could hear it. Still, he kept his wand at the ready as he passed through the front door.

Just at the low, dry masonry fence, Sirius was poised to duel, but his eyes were crazed and by the light of the stars overhead, Remus could see tears wet his cheeks. Sirius tried twice to get the words out before he managed it. "Remus—! What happened? Where are they? Harry?"

The other man's grief _felt_ real to Remus, but he stayed on the alert. "Harry's fine. I've got him silenced for a moment. He was screaming."

Sirius collapsed, clearly unmanned, and his wand dropped from his fingers to clatter on the top of the fence. "I heard him and then I didn't hear anything and I wasn't sure if I should run in for him or—"

"I need proof, Sirius, before I'll drop my wand."

 _The Grim, however, is fine._

Sirius sniffled and rubbed at his face with the heels of his hands, but his eyes were fixed on Harry. "Ask me anything, Moony," he rasped.

"Who was my first crush at Hogwarts?" It was a foolish question and the answer made Remus's heart ache, but it was one that only the Marauders would know.

"Mary MacDonald."

Tears flooded Remus's eyes as he lowered his arm and went to kneel at Sirius's side. Mary had been killed by Mulciber not that long ago. She'd never known he'd once had a thing for her and never would. "Here. Harry needs his godfather." With a quick " _Finite_ ," Remus removed the silencing spell and slid Harry into Sirius's trembling embrace. "Here. Now, breathe him in, Pads, and then I need you to tell me what happened as fast as you can. Including how the bloody _hell_ you knew to come. Did Lily—?"

Sirius nuzzled his godson for several moments, silent sobs shaking his body. Remus wrapped an arm around his friend's shoulders while he kept a sharp eye on their surroundings. After the shaking subsided, Sirius took a breath. "I just, just had a feeling, you know? All of a sudden. Didn't even take my bike, Moony. Just Apparated, but forgot about the wards. What about you? I thought you were on a mission?"

"I was. Lily sent me an owl to tell me about the change in Secret Keepers. What were you thinking? Why _Peter_?"

"You— You know?" And then, all of his muscles tightened. "I'll kill him. I'll kill him with my bare hands. Teeth. Fangs, anything. He— We _trusted_ him, Moony!"

Remus nodded, reaching for a steadying influence within himself. Surprisingly, he remembered the hidden Muggle paper in his pocket. The carefully scribed Runes. The mystery inherent in the communication soothed him for a moment. "Why Peter? You and James have always been so close."

Sirius buried his nose in Harry's hair again and the toddler squirmed. "Mummy?"

The men broke then, collapsing against one another on the dark earth, the smells of smoke and magic eddying around them.

 **. . . .**

At length, Harry required attention, and Remus rummaged in the bag. His fingers caught on a piece of parchment at the bottom of it and he tugged it out to look at— _Had Lily left care instructions or something for a babysitter? That would be helpful…_ —and got a nappie for Harry. "Here, Padfoot," he said, his voice rough with sorrow. "You get that, I'll see what this is."

Sirius had always been a man of strong emotions, but he was capable of taking action as needed, and rose to the occasion. "All right, Harry. Here you go. We'll get you all sorted, yeah?"

 ** _30 October 1981_**

 ** _Under advice, we the undersigned are making our wishes known._**

 ** _In the event of our death, we, James and Lily Potter, wish for our son, Harry James Potter, to be raised by his godfather, Sirius Orion Black._**

 ** _All of our goods and real estate shall be kept in trust by Sirius Orion Black and Remus John Lupin until Harry is of legal age: 17 years._**

 ** _These are our stated wishes, witnessed this day in Godric's Hollow._**

 ** _(signed)_**

 ** _James Potter_**

 ** _Lily Evans Potter_**

 ** _And witnessed by:_**

 ** _(signed)_**

 ** _Hermione J. Granger_**

"Merlin, what happened? Who is this Granger person, anyway?" Sirius wondered, having handed Harry a bottle and settled him in his lap. The boy seemed content enough, just then, and Remus gave thanks for the small mercy. They had a lot to get sorted.

"Hermione J. Granger? I haven't any idea. Why didn't they get one of us?" Remus just stared at the parchment, trying to remember if he knew a Hermione Granger.

"I don't know but that's not what's important right now. We have to get Harry back to my place. Make sure he's safe."

Remus shook his head. "I don't know. A London flat? You-know-who is looking for him, right? Can we keep him safe, there?"

"My wards are strong, Moony." Sirius adjusted Harry in one arm while rising to his feet.

Though the situation was dire, and his chest felt cracked open from grief, Remus couldn't help but offer his friend a fond smile as he nodded at the toddler. "You've got that settled, have you?"

Sirius smoothed Harry's unruly black hair. "We're mates, me and Harry. We'll be fine." Then, he shook his head and the softening of his expression was banished. "We'll be fine _after_ we find Wormtail and find out what the hell happened. Was he killed? Did he—?"

Remus ran his fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp. "Why did you decide to make him Secret Keeper?"

Sirius grimaced and indicated they should return to the house. "It was my idea," he confessed, sounding flat and determined. "I thought _I_ was too obvious, you know? I told James that it should be someone else, to keep them safe. Anyone who wanted to know would know to look for me, right?"

"Yeah." Remus had never begrudged the brothers-in-all-but-blood status between James and Sirius. "I get it. I do. But it didn't work, Sirius."

"Do you really think Peter . . ."

"Broke faith?" The idea hurt, pushing claws into that open grief-wound in his chest, but Remus found himself nodding anyway. "I do. I—I should find out, though. You get Harry to safety, yeah?"

"Let's get—." Sirius's mouth stayed open, but no sounds followed. Pain narrowed his eyes, thinned his lips, and Remus understood.

"Let's."

They first encountered the bound Death Eater in the parlor. Despite the darkness and the lingering tinge of dark magic that wafted throughout the house, Remus sensed Sirius tense, gathering his magic about him in a dangerous manner.

"Don't. We need to find out what he knows, first," Remus cautioned, his wand out as if to block Sirius from casting. "Plus, Harry, right?"

Shaking himself as if were in his Animagus form, Sirius bent to breathe in Harry's scent. The boy tugged on his godfather's hair with one hand, his green eyes wide and watching. "Pad!" Harry murmured while offering Sirius a sip from his bottle. "Pad!"

The grey-eyed man paused, stared into the lad's upturned face, and laughed. Laughed loud and long and, as he did so, much of what was dark seemed to ease away from the room. "You're all right there, Harry," Sirius said after he got his breath back. "You're all right."

The men then made eye contact with each other, listening with all their senses while communicating silently in a way they'd practiced for years. Without another word, they left the prisoner and moved through the house, picking up pictures and mementos, shrinking them to fit into pockets and Harry's bag, before getting to the second floor, where James and Lily met their ends.

The scents of death prepared them; Remus had been and mourned and raged already, so he held out his arms. "Here. I'll take him, you go on in. Get what you need, Padfoot."

"Pad! Pad!"

Remus shushed Harry and took him to the kitchen. "Let's see if we can get you some food to take with, eh? And then…" Harsh sobs razored through the house. Remus set his jaw against howling. "And then," he said again,"Your godfather will take you home, just like James and Lily wanted."

He found some paper bags from Tesco in Launceton and filled them with food, magically reinforcing them so that they didn't burst. The entire time, he monitored Sirius's mourning above them as well as the muffled sounds of his prisoner still in the front parlor.

"Harry. I'll be right back," he told the boy. "Sit tight."

"Mummy? Pad?"

"Uncle _Moony_ ," he said, exasperated.

Young Harry picked up a plastic bowl that Remus had left on the floor for such a purpose. "Unka Moon! Unka Moon!"

Despite the horrors he had experienced that evening, Remus had to smile and ruffle Harry's hair. "Thank you."

"Unka Moon!"

"Unka Moon'll be right back. Stay here." He strode from the kitchen to return to the parlor, where the captive Death Eater still lay on the floor. "Can a man take three stunners? Let's find out, shall we?"

He stunned the man again, just as Sirius's slow steps descended from the upper floor. "Padfoot?"

"I'm here."

"You should get Harry home. I—I need to take care of this one." He wouldn't deign to call his prisoner a man, a person, or anything.

Sirius sniffled and rubbed the back of one hand across his eyes. " _I'll_ take care of him. I'm a bleeding _Auror_ , mate. I'll do it. You—you get Harry to my London flat, all right?"

"Hell, how do I—? I mean, Padfoot." Remus felt helpless. The recent estrangement between the two men hadn't lent itself to knowing one another's wards. And both of them were agitated at the moment, which didn't help. "No. The letter I got said to make sure you were to protect Harry. Not to stray from that one iota."

"Stray? Iota? Who wrote that, you?" Sirius was bristling, wand out as if he were itching to curse someone with an Unforgivable. Remus couldn't blame him.

"No. Just a . . . confirmation. Look. I'll tell you later. Show you, even. Right now, though, you've got to get out! Take your pup and go!"

Sirius ceased his restless prowling. "My pup. Right. Okay. That's what," he choked but sniffled loudly and continued. "That's what they wanted. Right. Okay. Fine. Now, Moony, what happened to Peter? I gotta know!"

"Priorities, Pads. _Harry_.

Sirius crossed the floor. "Where _is_ Harry?"

"Kitchen. He's fine."

Sirius tugged roughly on his hair. "I don't know how, Moony… How do I…?"

Remus pulled his friend into a firm embrace. "You'll know. James knew you'd know what to do. And Sirius," he said, moving away and waiting until his fellow Marauder looked him in the eye. "You and Harry are the priority right now for me. I'll help, okay?"

Tension eased in Sirius's face as he swallowed and nodded. "Thanks. Okay. Where's his stuff?"

"Here. I'll go find Peter."

"Right. When you get back," Sirius said, leaning over to pick up Harry, who was trying to drag the heavy Tesco bag around the kitchen, "send me your Patronus. Then I'll know it's you and we can get sorted."

"Right."

Remus's heart was heavy as the three of them left the kitchen. The house was a mess, he had no idea what horrors Harry had seen, and their best friends were dead. They had to leave them behind, because Harry's safety was paramount. The needs of the living over the needs of the dead.

It was right, but it was ugly even so. Wiping wet eyes for the hundredth time, he saw Sirius and Harry to the Apparition point outside of the warded property. "Take care of Uncle Padfoot, Harry," he instructed the boy. Harry was holding on to a stuffed dog Sirius had found in the nursery, apparently.

"Unka Pad. Unka Moon."

"Take care of him, Pads."

"Take care of Pettigrew, Moony."

"I will."

 **. . . .**

 ** _1 November 1981_**

"Stop or we'll stun you."

Remus had expected something like this when he shoved a silenced Peter Pettigrew through the complicated (and absurd) flushing entrance into the Ministry of Magic. He kept his wand pocketed and his hands loose at his sides, meeting the eyes of both the Aurors who had pulled night duty in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. "I'm Remus Lupin, known to Albus Dumbledore of Hogwarts," he said in an even tone. "This," he went on with a sneer at Pettigrew, "is responsible for the death of James and Lily Potter in Godric's Hollow. He was their Secret Keeper but I think he was working for He Who Must Not Be Named."

The male Auror swore and gripped his wand with a white knuckled fist. "I know James Potter. And I know you, Lupin. Stand down, Meg." Sliding his wand into a pocket, the Auror said, "I'm Alex Cox. Ravenclaw, 1978. This is Margaret Ainsley. Let's hear what you've got to say. Meanwhile, are you sure about the Potters?" Cox's face expressed concern.

Remus felt his grief rise up in his throat again, but he swallowed it down. "Yes. I got a Death Eater at their manor, had him bound and silenced. We can go get him, if—"

"On it, Lupin," Ainsley said curtly. She was a tall, trim woman in her thirties with short blond hair. As she turned to deal with the situation, she flicked her wand and lights sprang up around the foyer, showing stone and carpeting that made it seem as if this were not an underground establishment under Muggle London.

Cox pulled a hand through his longish red hair. "You said Lily, too. Would that have been Evans? The one Potter was always going on about with the marriage proposals?"

Despite his sorrow, Remus had to chuckle. "It would. He finally convinced her."

"Well. Good on him, then." Then, his face crumpled for a moment. "Gordon _Bennett_ , but that's a raw one." Blowing out a loud breath, he seemed to shake it off. "All right. So. Pettigrew."

With a fire in his heart, tempered by caution, Remus followed Alex Cox past a broomcloset and into an office with a series of cubicles. Behind him, Pettigrew was levitated and maneuvered as if he were a plank of wood. This suited both men down to the ground. As he waited for the Auror to arrange a Dictation Quill and ward the office suitably against passage inward or outward, Remus wondered what Sirius was doing. He hoped with all his heart that the Animagus had taken the Floo back to his London flat. Then, both he and the cub would be safely away from any roving Death Eaters.

"Your statement, Mr. Lupin. Understand that every word you say will be recorded by my Quill and used as evidence."

"I understand."

Pettigrew made some sort of frantic sound, even under the silencing, as he hung in midair. The rat was in no danger, not physically, but Remus could only smirk inwardly at the notion of his former friend feeling all manner of insecure in his current predicament.

Alex Cox made note of the date and time, his hands steepled under his square jaw as he studied Remus. "So, where were you when the evening began, Mr. Lupin?"

The flames of fury still burned, fed by the betrayal of his former friend, but still Remus managed to keep his voice level as he answered the usual questions. As a werewolf, he had sometimes been called before the DMLE to answer for crimes that were not his. He had—he hoped—enough strength of mind even this night to bring to bear.

After the questions had been repeated by the same people for the _third_ _time_ , though, he had _had_ it. He didn't even try to suppress the growl that rumbled in his chest as he rose slowly to his full height. "Enough. Send a team to Godric's Hollow. Please see to the dispensation of the Potters." He closed his eyes against the sudden heat of unshed tears while gathering himself and walling his grief up one more time. "Sirius Black has been named as the guardian of the Potters' son, and we'll make sure to be available for any further legal proceedings."

Cox didn't spare a glance for Pettigrew, who was still bound and hovering above the floor. The Auror nodded. "All right, then. I'll get this sorted and be in touch."

Remus left Cox with the address to Lupin Cottage, not wanting to share Sirius's address with anyone just yet. Death Eaters could be anywhere and the cub was in danger.

"Once more, into the breech, dear friends, once more." With that quote from Shakespeare's _Henry V_ , Remus focused on the nearest alley to Sirius's London flat and spun into thin air.

 **. . . .**

The Phoenix Patronus trumped the wards that Sirius had placed on his flat sometime during the afternoon after the tragic murders.

"Remus Lupin," the white, shining image said in Albus Dumbledore's voice, "I need your help. The Potters have been killed. Please come to Hogwarts immediately. Harry Potter's safety depends upon it."

Harry Potter, at that moment, was making a proper mess of some teething biscuits in the middle of the floor of the lounge. "Somehow," Remus reflected whilst cradling a cup of steaming tea, "I don't think Dumbledore has all the facts."

"Mummy! Green!" Harry said after the Patronus faded from view. Green eyes filled with tears and the half-gnawed biscuit was dropped to the floor. "Mummy! Daddy!"

Remus set his cup down with a loud clatter and joined Sirius and Harry on the floor. Sirius swept the boy up to his chest and held him, letting tears fall into the lad's thatched hair. "Green. Your mum has green eyes, pup. So do you."

"Green!" Harry started sobbing, his whole body shaking against Sirius's chest.

It was all Remus could do not to join them as Sirius succumbed to harsh weeping. Someone had to be alert, and he was earnest in his wish to find out what "Green" meant to Harry. He scooted over on the floor to be next to Sirius, feeling the heat of the fire on his back. Draping a comforting arm around Sirius's shoulders, he brushed the other hand through Harry's hair. "Hey, cub," he murmured.

" _Pup_. He's my _pup_ ," Sirius said in soggy protest, nuzzling the boy for a moment. "You said. Don't confuse him; he's only a baby."

"Pup, then," Remus said, swallowing back another painful moment. "Pup. What was green? It's great that you know the color; we're so proud of you." Sirius snorted in some negative manner but Remus persevered. "Where was green?"

"Green . . ." Harry wiped a whole mess of nastiness on Sirius's now-stained shirt and Remus conjured a handkerchief to wipe the boy's face. "Green," Harry whispered again, pointing to where the Patronus had been when it spoke.

"That was white, pup," Sirius said. "White."

" _Green_."

Remus felt sick, all at once. "Merlin, Pads. He saw _green_. And his head, and Lily. And, oh gods." A cry that was nearly a howl tore from Remus's throat. "She was hit with, with an _Avada_ , Sirius."

Harry didn't know what to do when the men half collapsed on the floor, but he joined them. Crying was the right thing to do.

 **. . . .**

 ** _2 November 1991_**

"Sirius Black!" Dumbledore's voice was markedly more stentorian when the Patronus returned the following day. "Hagrid is looking for you. Come to Hogwarts as soon as possible."

The Patronus faded from the kitchen, where Remus and Sirius were doing their best to make something that Lily would approve of for Harry. And themselves, whilst they were at it. "Green!" the boy said again, his eyes wide and troubled.

Sirius, who had a paring knife in his hand, didn't physically comfort the boy, but said, "White, pup. That was a Patronus, a projection of light magic. You'll be able to make one yourself, one day."

Remus nodded as he fried rashers. He'd seen Lily give Harry excellent back rashers with the regular English breakfast, so that had to be all right, yeah? Rashers and thin apple slices and— "Are you going to go to Hogwarts, Pads?"

Sirius put down the knife and arranged the apple slices on a small plate. "No. You?"

"One of us should. He can't poke about in my head, so it should be me. You're to focus on the pup, yeah?"

"I wonder who left that for you, Moony. Who, amongst everyone we know, could have known what to say? And about, about Pettigrew?"

Remus set the bacon to drain, blowing over it so as to quicken its cooling for Harry. "I told you what I thought," he said softly with a quick glance at their charge, who was walking with determination around the table.

Sirius shook his head. "No one messes with Time Travel, Moony. I bet even, even Dumbledore wouldn't do that. It's dangerous."

"Well, that may be, but they've been right so far. So you stick to taking care of your pup, there, and I'll see Dumbledore before he sends Moody or someone after you."

 **. . . .**

He didn't use a Floo, because Floo-paths could be traced by someone as powerful as Hogwarts's Headmaster. He Apparated until he reached the wards at Hogwarts. Inhaling deeply, Remus settled himself, settled his insides, settled the wolf that growled deep within. A challenge had been made and the wolf was now a Guardian and would brook no challenge to his role.

He sent his Patronus in to Dumbledore and waited by the gate. The scents of the hills were familiar. Crisp, cold, energizing. Puffing out a white cloud of breath, he reflected again on what he would be saying—and not saying.

Dumbledore was hurrying, which surprised Remus considerably, to the gate. "Remus, my boy. How are you?"

"My best friends were murdered, sir. How do you think I am?"

Dumbledore's blue eyes reflected sorrow. "Come, come. Have some tea with me. We need to talk."

They walked with long strides into the castle proper, and the troublesome stairs made their path smooth until they reached the Headmaster's office. Once the tea was poured, Remus held his cup in his hands as Harry might hold his blanket. "Do you know what happened in Godric's Hollow?" he ventured to ask.

The Headmaster popped a lemon drop into his mouth. "Hagrid investigated for me. I had heard, of course. . . You do remember the prophecy." Pain sent a jagged bolt through Remus but he nodded. "Of course, my boy. Of course you do. It seems that Voldemort wished to anticipate that future by, by, well, we're not sure what he did. But Hagrid did, sadly, find evidence of trouble. James and Lily, dear girl, did not survive. Neither did a bound figure in the house. A Death Eater." Dumbledore paused in what Remus deemed to be a significant manner. He held his tongue. "Remus." Rising, the Headmaster strode slowly to the window and back. "You must know, Remus, that Sirius Black was their Secret Keeper. Only he could have told Voldemort where they were."

Remus inhaled deeply to calm the sudden, angry racing of his heart. "No, sir," he said evenly after a few moments. "Peter Pettigrew was." When the Headmaster appeared ready to argue, Remus rose as well, after placing his cup none too gently on the low table before him. "Have you been to the Ministry?"

"No, not precisely." At Remus's incredulous stare, Dumbledore seemed to get flustered. "I have been searching for Harry, if you must know. Hagrid, too. I'd planned on sending him to a safe house, away from the dangers of our world. Behind blood wards. Remus, I must insist. If you know where Harry Potter is, he must be brought to me. I have to get him to safety."

Standing uncomfortably, but determined to make his point and heed the wishes of James Potter, Remus nodded. "He is safe, sir. If you haven't found him, I daresay no one else will be able to, either."

Dumbledore scowled for a moment. Actually scowled. _Padfoot would love this_ , Remus decided, suppressing a laughing lip twitch. "Is Harry well, then?"

Remus could see the lad in his mind's eye, toddling about the kitchen, snuggling with Sirius in front of the fire, crying for his mum. "Yes, sir. He's fine." He didn't mention the scar on the boy's forehead; after those first few hours, the wound seemed to ease up a bit. It was dark, yes, but it didn't seem to be hot and it wasn't something Harry fussed over, so he and Sirius had decided to give it a bye for the present. Time enough once everything was settled to look into it. "Sirius is determined to keep his godson safe and I believe he will."

"He's an Auror! Surely, he won't give up his job."

"Oh, he will. The plan is to resign. He has some money, you know, even if not the entirety of the Black vaults. He'll keep Harry safe." Being a magical godparent imbued to the adult a rather unusual degree of protectiveness as the role settled, especially true if a custodial relationship was sadly needed. "And I've pledged myself to help."

The Headmaster snorted a short laugh. "Well, then. That actually provides me with some relief. I have no doubt that Mr. Black will devote himself to Harry, but, he could use another set of opinions. Yours are good ones, Mr. Lupin."

Uncertain of how to take that, Remus still felt the force of the compliment. "Thank you, sir."

* * *

 _ **A/N** : For the record, we will only be getting Remus's perspective in this short story. (Yes, I guess it's kind of a thing for me to limit perspectives...)_


	3. Part the Third

_**A/N:** Some of you have been waiting for Hermione to join us. She's been here since the first chapter, but...if you want to shake hands, here she is._

* * *

 **Part the Third, 2 September 1985**

Remus felt inordinately proud, so much so that his chest was all but puffing out. He might have even strutted at Harry's side as he and Sirius walked the lad to his first day at Magical Day School in Pwllheli, Wales.

A farming and seaside community in legendary Gwynedd that had sheltered a magical component since the fourteenth century, Pwllheli had proven a safe haven for a trio of misfits such as they. Sirius: the wealthy Head of the House of Black, who had claimed his position after the death of his unlamented mother earlier that year. Harry: the boy who had managed to survive the Killing Curse that had rebounded somehow (no one knew how) on Voldemort himself and who had a target on his back. Remus: a werewolf with no prospects at all. An odd company, to be sure, Remus reflected as they reached the warded, stone-crafted cottage.

Harry, his eyes alight behind the spectacles he'd need until he was old enough to have his vision adjusted with a special series of charms, waved a bit of parchment. "I can see it, Dad! I can, Uncle Remus!"

"That's because you must be a marvelous reader," a female voice said. With a tilt of her head, a young woman sent up an owl with a parchment on its leg before bobbing a quick curtsy. "I'm Jean Dagworth," she said. "Mistress of the Pwllheli Day School. I sent you an owl last month, didn't I?" Her smile was warm as she met Remus's eyes. "And, I daresay, your reputation goes before you, for all you've been out of the country for most of the year."

Sirius cleared his throat and stepped in front of the cobbled-together family the males made. "Reputation? What reputation?" he demanded. Remus could see that he was only barely refraining from pulling out his wand.

Mistress Dagworth's brown eyes glinted with sure humor. "Mister Black. Mister Lupin. Mister Potter. Surely you've kept up with the public attention you've garnered over the years. The gallant rescue, the immediate retreat into anonymity—"

"That didn't appear to have worked too well," Remus murmured, watching the teacher's careful expression.

Harry shook the parchment again. "Anon-what? This isn't that. We live in Pwllheli!"

Mistress Dagworth grinned at the boy. "So do we all, eh? Come, all of you. I'll give you the tour before we settle in for our first day."

Sirius wasn't appeased. "Just a moment. Really." Gray eyes narrowed in obvious suspicion, he examined the young woman from head to toe. Remus was at first amused, but then he abruptly grew annoyed when Sirius's attention seemed to linger inappropriately. "I didn't have the opportunity to investigate the school before, as we were away, but I want to make sure this is a safe environment for my son."

"Of course you do, Mister Black. I've got certifications and _bona fides_ and so on in my office and you, Mister Lupin, are free to inspect the wards." She offered her hand to Harry to shake. "Mister Potter. I'm pleased to make your acquaintance."

The boy took her hand in his and made three abrupt motions before letting go. "Thanks! Am I really going to school? I want to go. Can girls be teachers, too? I've only had boy teachers."

Jean Dagworth laughed lightly and turned to lead them past the deceptively simple wooden gate into a clean swept yard that was bordered on three sides by herb gardens. "Indeed they can. At Hogwarts, where you might go one day, many of the professors are women. And I've earned two of my masteries from women as well."

"Two?" Remus and Sirius asked simultaneously.

After that, Remus paid more attention to the wards that arced over the school grounds. It seemed that young Mistress Dagworth was a complicated person. He followed the teacher, Sirius, and Harry as they strode slowly toward the main door of the cottage, but his senses were focused on the surroundings, not the people. The green scents from the gardens, the dry aridity of books and paper as they entered the building, honey and beeswax, homey smells swirled and settled in the air around them.

And then, there were the Runes.

Etched into door frames and ceiling beams, there were protective wards everywhere. Those were for impenetrability, those others were fire-warded. Emergency protections, it seemed, but there was more. The older Runes. Arcane and secretive, worked into every possible point of ingress and egress to the cottage had been wrought.

This place would stand up against an invasion from either Death Eaters or Aurors, he suspected.

Who was Jean Dagworth? He had to know!

There were a few instructors at the Day School, he saw as the Headmistress gave them their tour. All of them showed the young woman fond respect but no untoward attention toward Harry—which was a relief.

"So, do we pass?" Mistress Dagworth inquired in a soft, secretive voice as Sirius and Harry were saying brief farewells near the main entrance. Other students were arriving; there appeared to be perhaps seven or eight, of varying ages. "Mister Lupin?"

He shook himself and saw that he was standing quite near the woman—a woman near enough to his own age as to make him even more aware of the heat he could feel emanating from her skin, the way her golden brown hair curled at the end of a long braid that wound down her back, and the scents of lavender and vanilla that surrounded her. "I missed your certifications," he said, "but I was quite impressed with the warding. Your doing?"

Her lips quirked in a smile. "Every last one. First mastery was in Ancient Runes, after all."

"One of my favorite subjects," Remus responded with a smile of his own. "Perhaps we could discuss them sometime?"

Where had that come from? The invitation had fallen from his mouth as he'd been studying her face—the smooth, olive-toned complexion, thick lashes, the rosy under-hue of her cheeks that matched her wide lips perfectly. Was she a beauty? Maybe not, but he found her to be terribly attractive. And her Rune work was astonishing.

That under-hue intensified as she dropped her gaze. "That, that would be nice, Mister Lupin."

Sirius and Harry rejoined them. "Well, Miss Dagworth, I know Harry's eager to start his day," Sirius said, ruffling the boy's impossible hair. "Thank you for the tour. One of us will be back for him at three."

"Have fun, Harry," Remus said, dropping one hand to the lad's shoulder.

"I will, Uncle Remus! Bye!"

"And that was our cue." Remus caught Jean Dagworth's look with a rueful smile. "Hope you have a good day as well, Mistress Dagworth."

"I'm sure we will."

Sirius smirked, but kept his thoughts to himself until they were beyond the school's wards and on the road back to their own modest cottage. The air was clean and smelled of the ocean, the air was on the pleasant edge of cool, and Remus felt as if nothing would irk him for days on end.

Something of this might have shown in his demeanor, because his best mate started in on him with an elbow to the ribs. "So? Jean Dagworth? You looked awfully close and chatty there, Moony. Something you're not telling me?"

Remus didn't even try to hide his grin. "What? The woman is brilliant. Did you see the wards? That school could stand up to Dumbledore, I'm fairly certain."

Sirius snorted, but then he paused, stopping in the road with a hand on Remus's chest to halt him likewise. "Why the bloody hell would she need wards that strong on a magical day school?"

The day seemed to dim for a few moments as Remus met Sirius's direct stare. "That's something I wondered about myself. Maybe she's just very cautious?"

"Or maybe she's got something to hide." Sirius scraped his hands through his heavy black hair.

"What, though?" he asked as they resumed their walk on the side of the road. "She can't be much older than we are and—"

"And what? She looks innocent? _Pettigrew_ looked _innocent_." With a derisive gesture, Sirius blew out a breath. "Well, I trust her with Harry. If only because her wards are so damned tight. And she's got Masteries in Ancient Runes, Defense Against the Dark Arts, as well as Potions."

Remus stumbled over his own big feet. "What? Three? How old is she? I swear, she looks maybe—"

"I know! That's what I'm saying. So, why don't you pick up Harry this afternoon and see if you can suss anything out of her. She seemed," he added with a wicked grin, "to fancy you."

The conversation went from teasing to curious all the way back to the house. Upon arriving at their home, Remus pointed at the roof. "Looks like we've got company."

The owl was entirely nondescript, but not so the parchment it carried. Sirius took it whilst Remus rummaged in the kitchen for something for the owl.

"Hey, Moony? You should come see this," Sirius called from the front parlor.

"Coming." He entered, offered the owl her reward, and didn't even watch as it flew back out through the front door as Sirius was thrusting a piece of parchment under his nose. "Oi, what?"

"Read this! You told me that you got that note that, that night. The one that told you about Pettigrew," Sirius said, passing a hand over his face in clear distress.

Runes. Written with a plain Muggle Biro. On parchment, rather than lined paper this time. A cold knot formed in Remus's chest.

The letter began in conventional English script, but continued mostly in Runes, just as that first one had, years prior. He wiped a sudden sweat from his temple and swallowed. "Same. Looks the same, Pads."

His friend nodded spasmodically. "Read it! I'm not the one who got the last one."

First, Remus took precautions. "You were the Auror. Check it out for hexes, will you? I, I need a glass of water."

"It's got a scent-masking charm. Or is that a potion?" Sirius called as Remus paced slowly to the kitchen. He was reluctant to find out what was going on, reluctant to read about even more danger that might be coming to them. The mystery of the first Runic letter had never been solved, though Remus had kept an eye open over the years. He had also kept an ear open for the name Hermione J. Granger.

But no identity had he had about the first writer. No Muggle-borns who used Biro pens had crossed his path. He'd looked about when they had traveled as well, but to no avail.

He charmed the water to be cool before pouring it down his throat in near-desperation. What the bloody hell was wrong, now?

"All right. So far," Sirius called, his voice drawing nearer, "I've got that whoever wrote this likes your name. And they've said _thanks_ and that we need to talk to Dumbledore about something dark." His best mate's face was pale when he reached the kitchen table. "Moony. I bet this is about his scar," he said, his voice rasping and his eyes wide. "This, this _person_ knows about it. And they aren't telling us _anything_."

Remus took the proffered parchment.

 _Remus,_

 _Thank you for heeding my letter of four years ago._

 _I have been glad indeed to know that Pettigrew was sent to Azkaban. I have been gladder still that the Grim's pup has been happy and healthy. I hope you are preparing him to be a mighty warrior for the Light against the Dark._

 _To do this, Remus, seek the Headmaster. He knows what you need to know about the Dark that the pup carries with him._

 _The pup is safe and happy. He is well guarded. He will be a fine warrior if he is well armed._

 _With much respect,_

"It's signed with the hourglass again, Pads," Remus murmured, staring hard at the Runes written with such fine lines. "But not on the Muggle paper. I—" He eyed Sirius, who was appearing panicked. "He's fine, Pads. Harry's fine. I don't know how this person knows, but they do."

"But something Dark? Something he carries?"

"When, when I found him . . . ?" The men never liked to refer to that devastating Hallowe'en in 1981, so they generally referred to it with the silent expedient of facial expressions. "His scar was _hot_ , Pads. Like an infection. And it reeked of Dark Magic."

Sirius nearly collapsed against the gleaming wooden breakfast table before he slid to sit on one of the chairs. "Why didn't you say something to me? I'm his father, you bloody bastard!"

Long used to Sirius and his explosions, Remus hitched himself up to perch on the table, looking down into his friend's stormy gaze. "That's a reflection on my parents—and inaccurate, by the way." He waited until Sirius snorted before continuing. "Things were a bit rough that night, if you remember. My first concern was getting Harry to you and then getting him tucked away safely. We did that. By the time I'd . . . sorted matters elsewhere, I'd forgotten about the heat and all. I was just glad to see it wasn't bleeding."

"And now, it's just a dark pink that never heals . . ."

As if Sirius were a wee lad himself, Remus ruffled his hair. Which irked his friend so that he finger-combed it to fall in regular waves to his shoulders again. Huffing the whole while.

"It never seems to heal, no. Dumbledore might be glad to see him, you know."

"Maybe."

"Are we sending him to Hogwarts?"

Sirius scowled. "Not for _years_ , Moony. I want him with _us_."

"But if Dumbledore could help him. Help him to be a warrior for the Light?"

"Why the bloody hell should he have to train to be a warrior? He's only five years old, Moony! And the great dark bastard is gone."

Remus shifted to sit in a chair so that he was more eye-to-eye with Sirius. "Is he? Did you see a body? It was hell on us, but we saw James's and Lily's. But there wasn't any body, Sirius. What if . . . what if he's not gone?" It was something that had lingered to annoy him, off and on, over the years. But since so much of their life was peaceful and happy, Remus hadn't dwelt on it.

Perhaps that had been a mistake?

 **. . . .**

"Go early. Make an excuse so you can look around." Sirius was pacing in front of the fireplace. "I'm serious, Moony." He made a shooing motion with both hands before pointing at the door.

"You're _always_ serious, Sirius," Remus reminded him with a determinedly casual smile. Someone had to be the calm one today and it wasn't going to be Harry Potter's adoptive father. "I'm going, I'm going. Sure you don't to come along, Padfoot?"

"Harry'd give it away. No. But maybe another time. Hey! I could maybe spy on the teacher, what's her name? Dagworth!"

"Are you bored or something, Pads? Do we need to find you a hobby? What about knitting? You could go to Molly Weasley's and learn."

Sirius made a rude noise before shooing him out again. "Go!"

"Behave," Remus advised on his way out the door.

That he saw an ominous black Grim a little ways behind him all the way back to Pwllheli's Magical Day School did not surprise him a bit.

At the school, shortly before three o'clock, Remus waited at the gate, both gratified that he wasn't allowed instant access—that spoke well for the security of the place—and annoyed because he had to wait. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Padfoot sniff at the boundary fence before heading off to smell the scents and look for trouble all the way around. At length, he saw Harry wave through one of the windows on the second floor of the cottage and he waved back. This got the attention of a teacher, a young woman with bright red hair that reminded him fleetingly of Lily Potter. He held down the flare of pain and instead brought out his best company manners.

"Hello, I'm Harry Potter's Uncle Remus."

The woman smiled, showing a gap in her front teeth. "Remus Lupin, yes. I'm Dilys ap Roberts. I teach language skills and comportment, here." She moved back to allow Remus entrance to the yard just as a sharp slice of wind made them both shiver. "Your nephew will be ready to go home shortly. Why don't you wait in the foyer?" Opening the door—also warded and painted in innocent-but-effective Runes—Dilys ap Roberts ushered him out of the wind. "I'll let Jean know you're here."

The redhead left Remus, who stood about quietly, knowing they'd have him monitored in some way. He opened his senses to parse what might be hidden in the area. Sometimes, his nose was smarter than his eyes were.

But this time, it wasn't his nose; it was his ears that brought new information to him. A strange, smooth pressure that was looping over and around on wood. As if it were a wand making etchings on a flat surface.

Followed by a small, almost inaudible _Click_.

It was an anomaly and Remus—a man who enjoyed Ancient Runes for their mysteries—did enjoy anomalies. He took an oh-so-casual step out of the foyer into the perpendicular hall, and was able to see Jean Dagworth's office. She was there.

She was tucking a _pen_ into a pocket of her studious, professorial robes.

A pen. A mechanical, Muggle Biro.

His heart jumped and slammed in his chest and he could feel his eyes turn to the amber of his inner Moony. It was as if he were in the midst of a change, but without the pain. All the awareness, all his senses, all his focus was on the woman's pocket. He didn't think of proprieties or anything, he just moved. Striding rapidly through the open door into the office without an invitation, he was all set to take the woman by the hand to keep her next to him whilst he interrogated her.

But he hit an invisible wall and was rendered immobile. She'd cast silently.

Of course.

 _Mastery in Defense, idiot_ , he reminded himself. "Miss Dagworth," he said, for she'd left him that option, which was good of her, to be sure. He expected her anger, perhaps even fear, for he towered over her, but that wasn't what he saw at all.

"Mister Lupin. What can I do for you?" Trepidation lit her chocolate brown eyes and she briefly worried her lip. "Your nephew isn't quite finished with his day, yet."

"I'm aware. I'm sorry if I frightened you," he began.

She cut him off with a pass of her hand that effectively allowed him to move again. "No. I, er, was just wondering what brought you so violently into my office?"

He glanced down at her pocket and cocked one brow at her. She paled and her mouth dropped open. " _Accio_ Biro," she whispered, confirming his suspicions as it landed in her waiting hand. "You know, then?"

Remus adopted Sirius's best arrogant air and crossed his arms in front of his chest. He hadn't _known_ , no, but now he felt he _might_. "You're Muggle-born, right?" She blinked and he heard her heart speed so he had the answer there. "And you used Muggle paper the first time."

"I tried—I tried to make sure you'd heed me. So I used something different. Something you'd recognize." She darted a quick glance past his shoulder but Remus didn't follow it; he kept his eyes on her and wondered if she could be trusted. "You probably have a lot of questions."

"Understatement of the decade, I daresay," Remus returned, making it sound as if he didn't want to lock her in a room until she told him everything. "But most important, I need to know that you can be trusted with Harry."

At that, Jean Dagworth choked on what seemed to be a laugh even while tears sprang to her eyes, enough so that he could smell the salt before she wiped them away. "Have you seen my wards? Of course you have. You were eyeing them this morning. Remus, Mister Lupin, everything you see here, it's all for him. For Harry. All of it." She smiled and spread her empty hand in a gesture that conveyed helplessness. We need to talk."

"We do."

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Pwllheli - pronounced "poosh HELL ee" or "pootch ELL ee". I think. A real place, honest. :)_


	4. Part the Fourth

_**A/N:** Thank you all for your company this week. :) My most graceful curtsy to those who have taken time to send me notes. And to **Katmom** , who keeps me on the straight and narrow, many effusions of gratitude. :)_

 _You will not be getting all the answers, here, as I'm not Agatha Christie and this is not a novel. Alas. But the mystery of the Runic Letters is solved herein, as to author and intent, which is what I was going for. And we're back with Hermione Jean!_

* * *

 **Part the Fourth, 3 September 1985**

"Thank you for dinner," Jean Dagworth said after Harry had been given hot chocolate (dosed lightly with Sleeping Draught) and sent to bed. "I know you have questions for me, and I appreciate that you held them until now."

Remus couldn't help but smile at her, even though he and Sirius still harbored suspicions about her role. "We appreciate that you're willing to talk to us, rather than just send us cryptic messages." At her blush, he almost reached across the table to touch her loosely clenched fist, but he refrained and hoped that, when they were done with this very important discussion, he might be able to escort her home. All evening, he'd found himself getting distracted by her. The long, soft curls of her hair, which she'd worn loose, caught the lamp light with golden accents. The way her Muggle skirt and blouse flattered her feminine curves. The animation in her gaze when talking to Harry about something he'd learned that day. She'd been well-spoken all evening. Guarded, yes, but that was to be expected. Still, she'd proven well-read and open to conversation.

Sirius cleared his throat and laid his wand in plain view atop the table, next to his wineglass. "We didn't dose your wine or anything, Miss Dagworth, and I'm hoping we don't have to." His tone was implacable as he continued. "Harry had a good day at your school today and I'd hate to withdraw him."

"I'd prefer that he stay as a student as well, Mister Black. Here, let me put my wand on the table as well, if that will ease your mind." She did so, then placed her hands on the table as she had before. "All right, then. Where shall we begin?"

After exchanging a quick look with his friend, Remus leaned forward with his elbows on the table. "I suppose we could begin at the beginning."

She flashed a quick, wry smile. "Whose beginning? Yours or mine?"

Sirius barked a sharp laugh that had little humor, but still an appreciation for the awkwardness of the question. "There's more than one, then?" With a shrug, Miss Dagworth indicated there was. Sirius nodded and leaned back in his chair, his legs stretching out under the table. "Fine. Ours, then. Remus said he got a note." He grimaced and Remus could see that his best mate was having a hard time referring to that Hallowe'en night."

"Ah. Yes. Well. All right." Jean Dagworth nodded slowly. "First thing, then. I'm known here as Jean Dagworth, but that's not the name I was born with. I was born Hermione Jean Granger, with ties going back to Hector Dagworth-Granger, the Potioneer. When I knew I'd be coming here, I felt it would be best to take on a new identity to keep things from getting complicated in the future."

"Hermione Granger," Remus repeated aloud, feeling the name scratching in his memory. "I've seen that name before. Just a moment."

He pushed himself back from the table and ran at half a jog up the stairs to his bedroom, where he'd kept the Runic documents from years ago, as well as the Potters' will. Sirius had tasked him with keeping them, as his wards were more complicated than Sirius usually used. With a few passes of his wand—he'd not left his on the table—he opened the small box made of Australian curly jarrah wood. It had a reddish cast and reflected the light beautifully in minute swirls in the wood grain. The Muggle paper and the parchments they'd received from Miss Dagworth-Granger were intact and rustled pleasantly in his hand as he returned to the kitchen.

Upon reaching the table, he tossed one of the parchments in front of their guest. "You signed the will, James's and Lily's will!"

"I did, yes."

Sirius leapt to his feet, his wand in his hand once more, though it wasn't quite pointing at Hermione Jean Dagworth-Granger. "How did you know . . . ?"

She put her hands up as if in surrender and met Sirius's narrowed eyes before locking gazes with Remus himself. "This is the hard part. I was born in 1979. Harry Potter is—was—my best friend in the entire world. And, after everything he had to do, after all he'd lost, he was . . . empty, there at the end. All of Wizarding Britain was thrilled but my Harry . . . he had nothing left. Nothing." All the while, she'd never released Remus from her gaze and he found that he believed her entirely. His heart actually clenched at the pain and loss she conveyed in her whispered explanation.

Sirius wasn't immune, either. He collapsed heavily on his chair and coughed a little. "What happened?"

She turned, then, and Remus settled himself on his own chair once more as she spoke. "Remus wasn't there. Pettigrew had been named Secret Keeper, but everyone thought it was you, Mister Black. And when Hagrid was told by Dumbledore to get Harry, you were very angry and went off to get Pettigrew."

"I would have killed him if I'd seen him," Sirius said between clenched jaws. "And it's Sirius. Please."

"And I'm Hermione. Or Jean, if you prefer. That's who I am, now. Somewhere, Hermione Jean Granger is living in London with her parents…but I'm not her. Not anymore."

 **. . . .**

Remus listened carefully to everything she said, but focusing on her words became increasingly difficult as the evening went on. What she had seen, what she knew, what she had sacrificed, all of that combined with how she spoke, the way she moistened her lips with her tongue, the feminine gestures, the way her gaze rested on him for perhaps a second or two longer than it did on Sirius. Her eyes would dilate, and after a while, he could sense . . . something else on her. Something wild and consuming.

It was a distraction.

"Harry was my family," she was saying, slumping against the straight back of her chair. "The only family I had left, after the war." She'd told them how Voldemort returned in her time, and how she was determined to give her best friend a happy life, as it hadn't been, in her time. "He deserved to have better. Deserved to live with people who loved him. I knew you would, Remus, Sirius. I knew you'd love him. I tried to save the Potters, though. I did. But I didn't know what kind of wards they had up then and—the location was Kept, of course, so . . ."

Remus felt tears burn in his own eyes, too. "Yeah. We know."

They learned of the horcruxes, and Sirius almost threw up at the idea of one being stuck in Harry's head, even now. "We'll figure out how to fix that," Remus assured him, gripping his hand across the table.

Their guest's brows flew up momentarily and she blushed before looking to her wineglass and finishing its contents in one swallow. "I've been researching that for years. We'll find something. I'm sure of it."

Sirius pushed himself to his feet. "I'm going to look in on him."

"I understand," Jean—Hermione—said, rising as well. "I'll just be going, then. I know this has all been a shock for you two."

"I'll walk you home," Remus said immediately.

"You don't have to, honestly," their guest retorted.

Sirius smiled for the first time all evening. "Oh, he really does. Thank you for coming, Miss Dagworth. Seriously. We'll keep your secrets, of course. And I hope we can talk about all of this again when I'm not ready to be sick everywhere."

The night air was quite cool, so Remus cast a warming charm about them as they reached the road and turned right. He offered her his arm and she took it, her hand a firm pressure against him. "So, you know about, about me and my, er, furry little problem?"

Looking about, she nodded. "Lycanthropy? Yes, I know. I knew then, too. It never mattered to me. I mean, I felt—and feel—dreadfully that you have to suffer with it, but it isn't all that you are, Remus. It never has been."

Heat flowed over him all at once, as if he'd been hit with the most comforting warming charm in wizarding history, but it pooled in his chest, making it hard for him to breathe as they continued walking slowly on the path. "Thank you, Hermione. That's very kind of you to say."

"You were one of our professors, Harry's and mine, you know." She smiled up at him for a moment. "Best Defense Against the Dark Arts professor we ever had."

He had to chuckle at that, reaching to cover her hand with his own. She didn't pull away. "Well, I guess I must have done all right, eh? You've got a Mastery in the subject."

She tilted her head a little and said in a saucy tone, "Oh, Harry had a lot to do with that, as well."

They reached her home—the Magical Day School—all too soon. At the gate, he made bold enough to take both her hands in his. "Might I call on you again?" She might have been a Muggle-born and he was only half-blood himself, but the Potters had taught him, Sirius, and James all the proper forms.

"So formal, Mister Lupin?"

"Remus," he reminded her. "You've always called me Remus. Why?"

Her lips parted; he could see them by the lights that shone from some of the school windows. "You, you asked us to, once. But now, that's all going to be changed, and I wonder—I wonder if Hermione Granger will ever get to know you and what that might mean for me."

"Or for Harry." _Or me_ , he added silently.

"Harry's happy and he's loved," Hermione stated with conviction. "That's what was most important." She squeezed his hands lightly. "I should be getting in."

He didn't let her go just yet. "You didn't answer my question, you know."

"Oh. Yes, yes of course you may, Remus. I, I would like that. Very much."

 **. . . .**

 ** _8 July 1986_**

"Horcruxes?" Albus Dumbledore dropped his teacup, breaking the handle off on the edge of his ancient desk.

Remus performed a simple, silent _Reparo_ as the Headmaster collected himself. "That's what we were told, Professor," he said, reaching for Hermione's hand and lacing his fingers with hers. They'd been dating for almost a year now. She'd helped him after two full moons, as her teaching schedule had allowed, and she still let him touch her. He was amazed by his own good fortune; his father had said he'd never have that.

"I'm glad Mister Black is out giving Harry a tour of the school. The boy does _not_ need to know of these things," Dumbledore stated, irritation practically flaring from him in visible waves.

Hermione leaned forward, but she kept holding Remus's hand. "Perhaps not _today_ , but _we_ need to get rid of them. As soon as possible, Professor. So that _no one_ needs to deal with them. I have a list of what they are and where they were in my time as well as where they might be now, in yours. Some careful investigations will lead us to them, I'm sure, and a wizard of your power will certainly be able to destroy them before Voldemort seeks to return to the world."

"No. I cannot condone exposing anyone to such dark magic, Miss Dagworth." Dumbledore had only been told her current name, so that he would not be prejudiced against her before even sending her her Hogwarts letter, she'd said.

Remus was not inclined to argue with her; she'd improved lives and was determined to save who knew how many hundreds more. "Sir," he said, trying to keep his tone polite and even. "What reason could there be not to do this?"

Dumbledore glared at him, no twinkle in his eyes. "The prophecy," he said, his voice quiet but still filling the office. From the corner of his eye, Remus saw many of the portraits move in obvious discomfort.

"Bugger the prophecy!" Hermione blushed immediately after her outburst. "Sorry, Headmaster. Sorry, Remus. Truly. Sir. If we can circumvent the prophecy, that will negate it, making the future better. I'm sure of it."

"Miss Dagworth," Dumbledore began.

She held up a hand and, surprisingly, the Headmaster closed his mouth. "Remus? Would you leave Headmaster Dumbledore and I alone for a moment? I may have a way to convince him, but I don't want you to have to hear it." She turned and smiled at him in a way that felt intimate, to Remus, but also careful. "Truly. It's all right. I just—I don't, I—"

He lifted her hand that he still held to his lips to kiss her palm. She sighed softly and he didn't even try to restrain his grin. "Professor. I'll see if I can track down Sirius and Harry."

When he returned half an hour later, with Harry going on about all the wonders he'd seen, Hermione was calmly drinking a cup of what smelled like Earl Grey tea, chatting with Dumbledore.

"Miss Dagworth!" Harry called, "I saw so many things! Did you know that there are house-elves here? And that they have big ears and—"

"I do indeed, Harry. So glad you got to meet some. They're wonderful people." She then encouraged Harry to stand right next to her and tell her, in his "inside voice", what other wonders he'd seen that day. This served to keep the boy's attention and Remus had to commend her delicacy.

Sirius leaned back against the office door. "So? Professor?"

Dumbledore exchanged a quick look with Hermione—who apparently missed nothing—and smoothed down his beard. "Miss Dagworth has given me a list; I'll be collecting the items for disposal. I'll be in touch before the school year starts, Mister Black."

Later, on their way out of Hogwarts Castle to Apparate to Hogsmead and, from there, to take a Floo back to Hermione's school, Remus felt he had to ask. "How'd you get him to go along with you?" No one else heard, as Sirius and Harry were having a footrace to the edges of the school's wards.

Hermione blew out a breath, her cheeks quite pink, and she shook out her hair. "I told him something I knew from before," she said at last, sounding terribly uncomfortable. "Something he would not want anyone to know. I told him if he refused to hunt for the horcruxes as soon as he could, I'd make that information known to, to certain people who would be very unhappy about it."

Remus felt as if he'd been punched in the chest. "Hermione! You blackmailed the Headmaster?" He still held her hand, but his fingers went cold.

She tugged her hand out of his. "Yes. I did. And I'd do it again if it meant keeping that dark bastard from getting a new body to house a piece of his soul!"

He couldn't argue with her reason, but he felt uncomfortable about it. Still, when she invited him for supper that night, he went.

He didn't return home until morning.

Sirius didn't stop teasing him about the smile on his face for a week.

 **. . . .**

 ** _27 July 1991_**

"Mmm. How's that?"

Remus rumbled contentedly as his wife massaged his upper back on the afternoon after the latest full moon. "Perfect, love. Just perfect. Oh, right _there_. _Thank_ you."

She grunted a bit and shifted so that she was straddling his bum. "Ooh, you've got a knot, here."

"Yeah. Careful, now."

Her chuckle was warm, her touch direct as she worked the knot out with a combination of her fingers and a quietly whispered spell. "There. Better?"

"All kinds of better, thank you." He rolled under her and slid his hands up her bare arms, shifting his body to align with hers. "And that's even _better_."

"Remus . . ."

"What? The kids won't be back from Padfoot's for at least another hour."

"That's because he wants to make sure you can rest, sweetheart." She slid to one side and nestled against his shoulder. "So rest."

"I will. As soon as I make you scream, wife."

"Honestly!"

Making Hermione call his name at the height of passion was only one of the things that made Remus's life idyllic, he decided as he woke up some time later. She was still dozing, so he slid from their bed, tugged up the lavender-scented sheet, and kissed her forehead before getting dressed. His keen hearing had detected Harry's voice, along with his own children's.

So he hurried down the stairs to meet them in the parlor. "Shhh, Jean's asleep," he told the green-eyed boy with the black hair.

"Oh, okay. Hear that? Shush," Harry told the green-eyed boy with the _brown_ hair.

It was something Remus chuckled about with Sirius and Hermione: all of the kids had green eyes. Harry's were that bright green that had so characterized Lily Evans, back in the day. Remus's son and daughter had green eyes as well, just as he did. Llew, his firstborn, was named after the lions of Gryffindor and he did indeed have the Gryffindor temperament. His daughter, Gwylan, had eyes of a darker green, more like moss than anything else. Her name meant seagull, in the tongue of traditional Pwllheli, and Hermione (who had of course learnt as much Welsh as she could over the past several years) had seen a seagull at the very moment she began to labor with their little girl, so that was the name she received.

Llew, at the grand age of three, nodded gravely and held tight to his little sister's hand. She was barely a year younger—something Sirius still found profoundly amusing—but didn't have to be told to be quiet; she rarely spoke. Her big brother did all the talking.

"Thanks, Harry, for bringing them home," Remus said. "Want something to drink? A snack? How's Pads?"

"Oh, he actually asked if I could stay here for a bit, Uncle Moony." Harry grinned and Remus's heart ached just a bit, as it always did when he could see James peeking out of the boy's face. "Dad's going to Floo to Diagon Alley and talk with the Goblins." He screwed his face up into some odd expression. "Something about my birthday and a ritual or something? Is it a big deal to turn eleven?"

Hiding his concern and edgy hope, Remus ruffled Harry's hair. "You know it is. That's when you get to go to Hogwarts. You'll make friendships that will last your whole life, there." He picked up Gwylan and held her in his right arm while Llew bolted to the kitchen to rummage in the child-approved snack shelves.

"Like you and Dad, yeah?"

"Yeah. And your father, James. And your mum."

"What about Jean? You know, I'll miss Day School."

He nuzzled Gwylan's curly blond hair. "We'll miss you as well, you know." Remus had joined the staff of the Magical Day School. "But we expect you to owl us, at least once in a while, right?"

"Right. Of course." Harry's smile was a bit droopy but it served well enough. "So can I stay?"

"Sure. I'll send a message to your dad."

. . . .

 ** _31 July 1991_**

"Ice cream right after, I promise," Sirius whispered to Harry as they entered Gringotts on Diagon Alley. Remus was with them, of course, and had promised to use the enchanted mirror to get in touch with his wife should they need a quick third opinion.

She was really unhappy that she couldn't go. "I started this, I want to be there when it's finished," she'd complained.

Remus had rubbed her feet, being gentle with swollen ankles and her hormonal temper. "I know, love. But it's not safe to be near that kind of dark magic when you're pregnant."

"I know that. I'm just not happy about it."

That afternoon, Remus was nervous, sweating and everything, in anticipation of what was going to happen. After years of research, of unconventional experimentation that he wasn't sure he wanted to know about, but that Sirius had worked on with Dumbledore and some Unspeakables from the Ministry, a solution had been found.

They could remove a piece of a soul from a live host, thereby destroying the horcrux while preserving the life of the host. Sirius had come home pale, on occasion, over the past couple of years, but a hug from his son was all he needed to recover, it seemed.

"I want lots of chocolate sauce," Harry said, looking a bit pale himself. He clutched Sirius's hand, though he had called that kind of behavior "for babies" not long after Llew had been born. "And can I have an owl?"

Sirius laughed. "Well, I have it on good authority that you're getting an owl, so . . ."

"Excellent!"

A Goblin approached them at that moment, his suit pressed and his words enunciated so clearly that he might have been a Muggle machine. "Mister Black? Mister Potter? I'm Ragnok, experienced Curse-breaker and Goblin in good standing. We've prepared a ritual space in one of the older vaults. They're deeper, you understand, and better shielded."

Harry nodded and extended his hand to shake Ragnok's which clearly startled the Goblin. "Mister Ragnok. I'm Harry Potter. Thank you for, for this. My dad said it's dangerous, so I appreciate what you're offering us."

Ragnok cocked his head. "Yes. Well. It will be good for business. And that's good for Gringotts. Come."

Remus, who still had gone unintroduced, merely followed the others as they strode through the bank, to the carts in a stone passage. He'd been here often, over the years, and Sirius had made sure Harry was familiar with the Potter vault as well as the Black. The Lupin vault wasn't nearly as impressive, but Remus liked to think he was doing his part to see to the future.

As always, the ride to the lower vaults was wild enough to make a man lose his lunch, which was why Remus hadn't done so before coming to Diagon Alley that day.

"Dad! This is mad! Awesome, but mad!" Harry laughed, all worries seemingly left behind in the marble halls above.

Still, when the cart came to a halt, the boy blew out a breath and had to be lifted bodily from the cart. Then, Sirius's hand on his shoulder, he entered the vault with Ragnok, to be met by two other Goblins and Headmaster Albus Dumbledore.

"Harry, my boy. So good to see you. Happy birthday, lad."

The mirror in Remus's pocket vibrated and he slid it from his robes, turning to give himself some bit of privacy. "Hello, love."

Hermione's precious face peered at him from the glass. "How is he? How's Harry?"

"They're about ready to get started. I'll get in touch as soon as it's done. I love you."

"You, too. Give him my best, will you? Please?"

"Of course."

"Mum! Mum, Gwyl's gone and dumped the snack shelf!" Llew's vibrant voice reached Remus's ear without any aid.

He smiled. "Go on. I'll be back soon. Want me to bring you some ice cream from Fortescue's?"

"Strawberry."

Sirius poked his head out of the vault, his eyes wide and a bit wild. "Remus? You coming or are you going to stay out there all day?"

He said a quick goodbye to his wife and joined the others in the vault. Runes had been etched into Goblin gold and arranged carefully about the shielded space. Harry, who had grown into a tall young man for his age, stood in the middle of the space, his feet carefully within the center of a pentagram that had been carved into the stone floor. "Uncle Moony?"

"I'm right here, lad. And your Aunt Jean sends you her love."

"All right, now. We're going to immobilize him, Mister Black," Ragnok said, his tone businesslike—of course—and matter-of-fact. "Mister Potter, this will hurt, but it will also work. And when we're done, we've got pain potions for you, all right? You look to be a fine lad; you should do well."

"Y-yes, sir, Mister Ragnok."

"If you have to cry, Harry, it's all right," Sirius murmured unable to reach the boy he'd raised as his own since Harry was still in nappies. Remus could see that was killing him, but if this meant the very end of Voldemort, the end of the monster that had killed James and Lily and so many others, it was worth it.

Hermione had told him, more than once through the years, what her Harry had had to live through. The confrontations with Voldemort at Hogwarts, of all places. The dangers of a Triwizard Tournament where Harry was Portkeyed and tortured and almost killed far from all who loved him. The trap at the Ministry where Sirius had been killed in that order of events. The hunt for the horcruxes, made on their own and largely without aid. The final battle where he, Remus, had been killed while defending Hermione herself . . .

Harry didn't know all of it, but he knew the basics. He knew about Voldemort. He knew how his parents had died. He knew he had the last piece of the darkest wizard of the age lodged within him. Of course he had only found that out this past week, but it was timely enough that—after a loud shouting match with Sirius—he had been able to accept it and prepare to get it out of his head.

"Merlin, help us all," Remus muttered as Dumbledore etched some Runes into the air around Harry and the boy froze, eyes pushed widely open in clear distress. That distress turned to pain, so much pain that Harry's skin went white, then red as the scar in his forehead ripped open to release a blood-red, ugly coagulant mass into the air in front of his face. Harry's eyes rolled back in his head at that, but he remained standing upright.

Dumbledore caught the mass in a Goblin-wrought chalice and held it while two other Goblins pierced the chalice with gleaming daggers of unknown origin. Ragnok kept Harry on his feet, his focus never wavering from the boy.

At last, with an eerie, high-pitched scream, the chalice seemed to explode within a carefully contained field controlled by Dumbledore. And suddenly, even the air in the vault seemed lighter.

Sirius laughed through his tears, wordlessly begging Ragnok to release Harry from stasis. When that happened, Sirius scooped his son into his arms and fell to the floor, where he continued to laugh and weep.

Remus's chest was tight, but he merely wiped at his eyes and reached for his mirror.

"It's all done, love," he murmured to Hermione, showing her Sirius and Harry on the floor of the vault. "You were amazing."

"Oh, Harry," she whispered, and he could see her hand, as if she'd touch the boy from afar. "It's really gone, Remus?"

"It's really gone."

 **. . . .**

 ** _1 September 1991_**

As it was Sunday, Hermione was determined to see Harry to King's Cross Station. "We're all set for tomorrow, so we might as well do this. I—I need to do this, Remus."

Hermione had Llew by the hand whilst Remus held Gwylan as they emerged from the Floo at King's Cross Station on the magical side. Nostalgia flooded Remus's thoughts and he met Sirius's gaze for just a moment before his friend was entirely occupied with getting Harry situated on the Express.

"Oh, look," Hermione whispered, tugging on Remus's free hand with her own as their children were fully occupied in watching the mad throng of people. "There I am. Or she is. Or something." A girl with a scary amount of thick, brown hair was navigating the platform all alone, a determined glint in her eye as she reached one of the lines to get on board the train at the same time as Sirius and Harry.

"Well, look at that," Remus commented. "He is a gentleman after all."

Sirius helped Harry—who had a beautiful snowy owl with him—and Hermione aboard the Hogwarts Express that Sunday morning, and the children could be seen talking awkwardly with one another while Sirius was clearly playing the Lord Black card up in a big way.

Remus wrapped one arm about his wife. "Thank you, Hermione Jean Dagworth-Granger Lupin," he whispered into his wife's ear. "Thank you."

She smiled into his eyes, her own filled with happy tears. And all was well.

 **The End**

* * *

 _ **End Note** : If you'd like, I am prepared to share how Hermione blackmailed Dumbledore. Let me know in a review or PM, and I'll send that hidden moment if you are accepting PMs on your end. _

_Still working on a longer multi-chapter story for the HP fandom. I'll post it when it's done. :) Thank you all so much for reading! ~ LJ Summers_


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